Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis or its original characters and I am making no money off of this.
SAWS: Ronon and Teyla in an alternate universe where they have yet to remember who they are and where they come from and how to find their way back home.
Rated: T - English - Suspense/Romance - Ronon D. & Teyla E.
Through The Looking Glass
The scent of the earth was heady as I breathed the air in slowly, with a discipline that seemed oddly natural, as if I had done it many times. Yet it was not something to which I was accustomed. I felt dreamy as I continued, closing my eyes. The ropes which were fashioned so that I could not escape the tree to which I was tethered still allowed me to sit in this strangely familiar meditative pose.
Something was at the edge of my consciousness and I reached out with my mind to bring it to the surface. It remained elusive. In its stead, a mixture of rage and bewilderment cloaked me as my mind played over, relentlessly, the previous hours. My happiness, at the reunion which I long awaited, had been short lived. Everything seemed to happen too quickly. I knew that we were in grave danger. These men meant business, and it was easy to see that business did not include Paloma, Angeles or myself. We all had been sequestered away in a dank hole in the ground. The pungent earth spoke of decay and eternal resting places, yet I felt strangely unafraid. Rather, anger grew within, because I was unable to rectify the situation.
It was these images I now sought to banish; an unending rerun of our abduction. Within, perhaps an hour after we had been cloistered away, two of the men returned to announce we were going to be separated from Santo and Milagra. I knew, without a pronouncement, that we were to be eliminated. Dragged from the cell by the lustful and wanting hands of several of the other men in this rebel army, I escaped, if only momentarily, the fate my friends' as one grasped hold of my arm and pulled me away from the wretched scene. It was always at this point that everything faded. What was I seeking to learn from this constant reiteration?
Even as I forced myself to stop reliving that which could never be changed, I knew the answer was dwelling there, perhaps in plain sight. I had to understand what was eluding me. Playing it out, one more time, in slow motion, I found the one instant, which was the focal point. It was the face of the man who snatched me from certain death. Each time, right at that moment, I experienced a sense of knowing him, but dismissed it. It was that which was niggling at me. I'd never laid eyes upon him before this day. Yet, his touch felt familiar, even in its gruffness, and his voice was equally so to my ears. I wondered if I might be experiencing one those deja vu situations. But it was the person, not the place, which, though previously unknown, brought up all these 'other-worldly' feelings. I would have considered it complete foolishness had I not gotten an unbidden image whilst drinking water from his hand.
It was brief, but a glimpse. We were sitting opposite each other at a table, eating. He stood and grabbed food off my plate, to which I stood and demanded he give it back. Instead, with an impish grin, he stuffed the greens between his lips, his look daring me to do something about it. Then it was gone.